


i wish you would step back from that ledge my friend

by seraf



Series: fundamentally people [2]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hope's Peak Academy (Dangan Ronpa), Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Developing Friendships, F/M, Implied/Referenced Incest, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Minor Harukawa Maki/Momota Kaito, Suicidal Thoughts, Toxic Masculinity, Ultimate Talent Development Plan (Dangan Ronpa)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-05 23:20:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19050550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seraf/pseuds/seraf
Summary: a discussion about identity, masks, and the call of the void.





	i wish you would step back from that ledge my friend

kiyo’s lab is creepy.

 

that’s the long and short of it. ghosts creep him out. big empty places that seem like nobody ever comes there creep him out. ancient things with distorted faces and old knives creep him out. _kiyo_ creeps him out. ( he asked maki to come with him. she outright refused. )

 

but shuichi had given him a challenge.

 

 _well, you were joking about him being your sidekick,_ he’d said, slowly, at lunch the dayafter shuichi had come and met kiyo on the roof with him, _but it might not be such a bad idea._

 

 _are you kidding, shuichi? he said he’d turn my vertebrae into toothbrush holders!_ he’d yelled out in return, startling the detective.

 

 _well, no i - i don’t mean actually making him a sidekick, you know? but like . . . you’ve always been super perceptive of what maki and i need or the issues we’re dealing with. if you’re trying to figure out what’s up with him . . . maybe act like you were really considering making him one of us, you know?_ he shrugged, a little awkwardly, fidgeting for a second as though he wanted to tug down the brim of his hat. _it’s just an idea. probably a dumb one._

 

 _nah,_ kaito had said, leaning back in his seat. _i’llgive it a shot. your ideas are never dumb, shuichi._

 

boy, did he wish he could take that back.

 

but in his own way, he’d been trying to figure out kiyo since then. people came intuitively to him a lot of the time - like he could tell that maki was afraid to let herself have friends or be close to people, like he could tell rantaro needed to protect other people to feel useful as a person, like he could tell shuichi was constantly second-guessing himself. but they were all pretty easy to read.

 

( he’d come to one conclusion about kiyo, but it was one he was seriously hoping he was wrong about, so he wasn’t going to take it as truth for right now, not unless he had concrete proof otherwise. but one question he kept meaning to ask him was - if the sky had been a little less clear that night and kaito _hadn’t_ decided to spend it up there, what would have happened? he fervently hoped the answer was just that kiyo would have thought about whatever it was he needed to and gone back to sleep, but he couldn’t help but doubt it. )

 

‘ hey, kiyo! ‘ he called out, trying not to spook at all the masks and weapons and dusty old scrolls, or the smell like a grave.

 

‘ kaito? ‘ kiyo asks, head tipping to the side curiously, perched at his desk with . . . a glass? orb in one hand, the inside of it swirled with black insets, murky and eerie. ‘ what are you doing here? ‘

 

‘ i, uh, wanted to talk to you, ‘ he says, scratching the back of his neck. he points at the sphere kiyo is holding. ‘ what’s that? ‘

 

‘ a rough translation would call it ‘the vessel of souls’,‘ kiyomurmurs, balancing it on the tips of his fingers, touch so light it seemed as though it were floating above them. ‘ an imprisonment vessel for one’s departed enemies, so that in the afterlife, their spirit could not remain in the physical realm to haunt you. instead, they remain, forever, trapped inside a glass orb, screaming in agony . . . ‘

 

kaito swallowed. he was beginning to remember why he _didn’t_ really spend much time with kiyo.

 

the anthropologist sets down the sphere, knitting his fingers together and looking up at kaito, this time speaking frankly. ‘ _or,_ it could be a new paperweight shuichi got me to help manage my developing build-up of manuscripts. either is just as likely. ‘

 

‘ don’t joke like that! ‘ kaito snaps, rubbing the chill out of his arms that had sunk deep into his bones. ‘ spirits aren’t r-real! ‘

 

kiyo cocks an eyebrow at that. ‘ perhaps i’m not joking. ‘

 

‘ cut that out! ‘ he yells, slamming one of his hands on kiyo’s desk. _fuck,_ but he hated ghosts as an idea. they made him feel almost physically sick withanxiety - the idea of something existing past death, invisible, watching him.

 

kiyo’s eyes are unreadable.

 

‘ i’m not simply trying to spook you, ‘ he says, eventually. ‘ but you shouldn’t dismiss all things you deem to be occult. i have been host to spirits many times in my own studies. ‘

 

‘ whatever, ‘ kaito snipes. ‘ that’s - that’s not what i wanted to come here to talk about. ‘

 

‘ indeed, ‘ kiyo says, tipping his head a degree to the side, dark hair spilling over his shoulders as he does so. his eyes seem to be seeing _through_ kaito, picking him down to his bones. ‘ and . . . why _did_ you come here? ‘ he spreads his slim hands. ‘ you’re welcome to be here, of course, but it . . . doesn’t quite seem your area of interest. ‘

 

‘ it’s not, ‘ kaito admits, rubbing the back of his head. ‘ i wanted to talk to you, y’know? ‘

 

‘ ah, ‘ kiyo murmurs, brows furrowing. ‘ but . . . hm. let’s . . . leave here, then. you are unnerved both by me and this place. it will make conversation easier if only one of these things are true. ’ he stands suddenly from his desk, chair pushing out from behind him. ‘ let’s head to the roof. i will meet you there. just . . . give me a moment. ‘

 

the sun is starting to set by the time kiyo meets him up there, bandaged hands passing him a flask of tea. the two of them sit by the edge of the roof, kiyo’s legs dangling out over the drop, and kaito, more safely, just leaning against the wall from the inside. he takes a sip of the tea - it’s hard to place. like green tea, but . . . not really. sweeter, and somehow almost melancholy, like the flavor reminded you of a memory you’d just forgotten.

 

‘ this is pretty good, ‘ he says, a little surprised. ‘ so - why here? ‘

 

‘ it seemed fitting, ‘ kiyo said, eyes distant. he takes a sip of his own tea ( _through_ his mask somehow, something that always unnerves kaito ) and doesn’t speak for a moment, letting it mull on his tongue.

 

when he speaks, it’s suddenly, as though he were just struck by a passing thought. ‘ _l’appel du vide._ the sudden instict or compulsion to jump; literally _the call of the void._ the sudden awareness that comes with the realization that you _could_ suddenly end your own life. ‘ he takes a sip of his tea. ‘ not . . . an unfamiliar concept to our own culture. the mara concerned with death, the _mrtyu-mara,_ is said to be the cause of that sudden overwhelming, seemingly sourceless, desire to jump. ‘

 

he speaks almost wistfully. there’s a certain amount of _love_ in his voice whenever he talks about mythology or customs, but this one . . . it’s like he’s talking about a past lover.

 

kaito has no idea what to say to . . . _any_ of that, so he takes another sip of his tea, not tasting it this time.

 

‘ my apologies, ‘ kiyo says eventually. ‘ i was suddenly struck by the thought. ‘

 

‘ are you . . . thinking of jumping? ‘ kaito asks tentatively, one hand creeping out to hover near kiyo’s wrist so that he could grab him if he suddenly _did._ he can’t think of a reason kiyo would, but frankly, he can’t think of a reason why kiyo does _anything._

 

‘ no, ‘ the anthropologist responds, taking another sip of his tea. ‘ i’m simply aware of the fact that i _could._ ‘ he seems to be lost in thought, flask held to his lips and eyes entranced with the horizon as the sun begins to embrace it. finally, he tears himself away. ‘ . . . you wanted to speak with me. what about? ‘

 

kaito blinks at him for a moment.

 

‘ i’m worried about you, man, ‘ he says, eventually, looking away fromhim and taking another sip, shaking his head. this school really had some characters. at least kiyo was . . . slightly more tolerable than, say, byakuya.

 

kiyo seems to find this deeply amusing, for some reason. ‘ worried for me? why? ‘

 

kaito gestures slightly with his flask. ‘ well . . . come on, who wouldn’t be? you never show up at meals, people keep seeing you talking to yourself, you’ve always got your weird obsession with death, and you just went on a fucking . . . rant about sudden suicidal ideation. you’ve got your weird sister complex, your arms are always wrapped in bandages . . . maybe nothing is wrong, but thatjust means it’s possible something’s wrong with _you,_ you know? ‘ 

‘ maybe, ‘ kiyo replies, simply, leaning back on the wall to make eye contact with kaito. ‘ you know very little about me. maybe i’m an undiscovered serial killer with a count of almost a hundred to my name. maybe i’m secretly deeply delusional and believe i’m a reincarnated nordic god. maybe i’m in love with my sister. maybe i’m not actually the person you think of as korekiyo shinguji, but a spirit who took possession of his body long, long ago. maybe i had sex with an entire village at age 16. ‘

 

‘ don’t be a dick, ‘ kaito snaps, annoyed, denying the goosebumps that prickle up under his jacket, resisting the urge to shiver. ‘ none of that’s true. ‘

 

‘ _kehehe . . ._ your unease is truly beautiful, ‘ kiyo murmurs, with that same observational ecstasy that seems to lay dormant in him at all times. ‘ i will tell you, though . . . while some of those _were_ indeed lies, at least one of them was not. ‘

 

‘ see, _this_ is the shit that makes me worry about you! ‘ kaito says, frustrated, slamming his flask of tea down on the top of the wall. kiyo remains unphased. ‘ you can’t just say creepy bullshit like that and not expect me to have some kinda reaction. ‘

 

‘ that is why you’re worried by the things i say, yes, ‘ kiyo acquiesces. ‘ but why are you worried about _me?_ or is it simply that you are worried _by_ me? i am other, and thus perceived as a threat, yes? ‘

 

‘ no, ‘ kaito says, honestly. ‘ i’m worried _for_ you. ‘

 

‘ interesting . . . ‘ kiyo replies, tipping his head to the side, eyes turned more sunset golden than snake-yellow by the sky. ‘ unfounded, but interesting nonetheless. ‘

 

‘ is it really that unfounded? ‘ kaito asks, back leaning against the wall, his head even with kiyo’s. ‘ hey. if i ask you something, can you promise to answer honestly? ‘

 

‘ what an odd question, ‘ kiyo muses. ‘ i will . . . promise this much. i will answer honestly or not at all. will that suffice? ‘

 

‘ i guess, ‘ kaito says, shaking his head and stuffing his hands into his pockets. ‘ so, the night i came up here and met you by mistake - were you thinking of jumping, then? ‘ he gestures vaguely. ‘ doesn’t matter if you were doing it in like, a serious way, or like . . . the apple do-veed way. just - was it on your mind? ‘

 

‘ is that all? ‘ he seems . . . surprised, by the simplicity of the question. ‘ yes. ‘

 

‘ how seriously? ‘

 

kiyo remains silent, and kaito supposes he _did_ warn him. honestly or not at all, huh? ‘ is that why you said that my instincts were good? ‘

 

‘ yes, ‘ kiyo admitted. ‘ i . . . when you and shuichi came back up, i was waiting for the two of you because it was . . . ‘ he looks down at his knees. ‘ i wanted to thank you for pulling me to sit with you that night. however, i must admit . . . for someone who studies humans, my skills with interacting with them can be . . . rusty. ‘

 

‘ for one, stop doing that, ‘ kaito says, snorting.

 

‘ doing . . . ? ‘

 

‘ well, you talk about humans like you’re not one, you know? that definitely makes you come off as a little weird. ‘

 

‘ i’m well aware, ‘ kiyo says, smile humorless.

 

‘ ah. well, if you’re . . . ‘ kaito gestures, a little uselessly. ‘ well, it’s good that you know, i guess. ‘

 

‘ mm. ‘ kiyo’s eyelashes flutter against his cheekbones, high and arched. ‘ kaito . . . that can’t have been the only reason you wanted to speak with me, right? it seems like it was . . . something larger than that. ‘

 

‘ oh! well, i dunno, wouldn’t most people think of this as a pretty big conversation? ‘

 

‘ well, ‘ kiyo said, sounding more amused than he ought to, ‘ not so much for me. as you said, people tend to think there’s something wrong with or about me, yes? all i’m doing now is confirming that it’s at least in part true. does that satisfy you? ‘

 

‘ not really, ‘ kaito admits. ‘ you’re still really fuckin’ weird in a lot of ways that just being suicidal wouldn’t explain, you know? but, uh - remember you said, if i wanted, you’d tell me a story about faith? i’m cashing in, i guess. ‘

 

kiyo’s eyes are wide as he looks at kaito, and there’s a slight sense of pride kaito takes in the idea that he’s genuinely caught him off-guard.

 

‘ i . . . didn’t think you’d remember that, ‘ kiyo admits.

 

‘ what, you trying to skip out of it now? ‘ kaito asks, crossing his arms and glaring at him with an intensity he doesn’t really mean.

 

the mask makes kiyo’s expression mostly unreadable, but even kaito can tell he’s smiling, his eyes crinkling up in the corners, turned warm and ecstatic. ‘ no, no. not at all. i’m . . . i am honored you remembered, honestly. ‘ he hugs his shoulders, expression lost in a seeming bliss. ‘ give me a moment to find one that fits _you_ in tone. ‘

 

kaito allows him a moment of thought, before kiyo’s bandaged fingers brush against his shoulder.

 

‘ i know one, ‘ kiyo informs him. ‘ it has borne . . . many names, in many different retellings. the two friends started as damon and pythias, though. ‘ his fingers thread together. ‘ damon and pythias were both followers of pythagoras, and they travelled to syracuse during the reign of dionysius, a tyrant. pythias had been accused of trying to overthrow dionysius, and as such, the moment they set down in syracuse, he was captured, and was scheduled to be killed. ‘

 

‘ but there was a family pythias left behind, and a sister whose wedding was in a matter of days, and a father he wished to say goodbye to, and so he asked if he could have leave to do these things, granted that he came back by the time of his execution. the king laughed at him for that and asked him what kind of a fool he took him for. ‘

 

kiyo turns away from the drop to face kaito, now, eyes back somewhere hundreds of years ago, observing a bond between men. ‘ the story varies slightly here - sometimes, pythias asks damon to stay for him, and sometimes, damon volunteers himself. either way - we see pythias returning home, with the deadline looming a week away. _someone_ will be killed on that day. if not pythias, then it will be damon. but damon never even loses his smile, for he trusts his friend to return. ‘

 

‘ pythias takes the few days and bids farewell to his family. for a moment, he is tempted to stay - he has his family, his sister and his father and his wife and his work. but he remembers damon, faithful and waiting for him, and he willingly begins the journey back to syracuse. back towards his own death. ‘

 

‘ the gods of greek mythos are . . . petty ones, by nature. they crave entertainment. and as such - pythias was pushed to the limit, on his return home. he was attacked by bandits, his horse stolen and killed, storms battered him from every side. but he refused to give up. back in syracuse, dionysius taunted damon that he had told him pythias would not return, but damon refused to give up, either. he maintained his faith in pythias, even as the deadlinedrew ever closer, and it seemed more and more like the faith was unfounded. ‘

 

‘ the sun had nearly set, ‘ and, indeed, as they’ve been talking, the sun has turned to a fine line tenderly embracing the horizon, ‘ and damon’s time drew nearer. the executioner just had to finish sharpening his axe, damon’s head already in its place on the chopping block. but suddenly, someone called out _wait!_ ‘

 

‘ it was pythias. filthy and storm-battered and moneyless, shoeless, pythias. damon shook himself free of his captors and the two embraced, and then, gladly, pythias stepped over to the chopping block and kneeled there, content to take up his own place, just glad his friend didn’t bear the weight of his crime. ‘

 

‘ their trust, their friendship, was such that something in dionysius’ heart shifted, and he dismissed the executioner, asking only that they teach him how to have that sort of faith, ‘ kiyo concludes, spreading his hands.

 

the sun has set, now, twilight seeping in, the streetlights far underneath lighting up one by one, giving kiyo an eerie sort of backdrop lighting.

 

‘ i like that story, ‘ kaito says, once kiyo finishes. ‘ it’s . . . a lot better than some of your others. ‘

 

kiyo sounds amused, when he replies. ‘ i thought you might say something to that effect. ‘ he rests his chin on one hand. ‘ so, kaito . . . why do you think people tell that story? what is the moral, so to speak? ‘

 

‘ uh . . . i don’t know, what? ‘

 

‘ no, i’m . . . genuinely asking your opinion, ‘ kiyo elaborates. ‘ it isn’t a rhetorical question. ‘

 

‘ well . . . it shows you can trust your friends, right? and maybe . . . that bad people just need to be shown what goodness can be like? ‘

 

‘ maybe, ‘ kiyo replies, fingers steepled, the zipper where his mouth would be hidden behind them. ‘ but . . . think about why such a story would be told. it’s . . . so often, nowadays, we tend to see cynicism and intelligence as going hand in hand, yes? believing in the good of other people is a foolhardy quest. pythias and damon shines forth as a story because it goes against that inherent cynicism. it shows that choosing to believe in someone, even when it seems fruitless, is strength more than kings could ever hope for. ‘

 

kaito isn’t sure, but it seems like kiyo is smiling, ‘ thus . . . it reminded me of you. ‘

 

‘ that’s . . . really kinda thoughtful, ‘ kaito replies, taking a moment to mull it over. ‘ it’s like . . . something similar to what you said, when you were talking about how people tend to see me as an idiot. ‘

 

‘ yes. you’re . . . a pythagorean ideal, i would say. if i am honest . . . i envy you your faith. ‘

 

‘ do youreally distrust people so much?‘

 

‘ i . . . don’t, one way or another, ‘ kiyo says carefully, ‘ as an anthropologist, i observe. i don’t show scorn on the idea of bonds, nor do i participate in them. it ruins the objectivity of the science. ‘

 

‘ you’re worried that your recording or interference might change the outcome, huh? like . . . the world’s tallest, weirdest, schrodinger’s cat. ‘

 

‘ personally, i prefer to see myself as the nuclear material, ‘ kiyo replies dryly. ‘ well - was that an alright story? ‘

 

‘ i liked it, ‘ kaito says decisively, pounding a fist into his opposite hand. ‘ thank you. ‘ he works his jaw for a moment. ‘ kiyo . . . _are_ you okay? if we’re talkin’ about promises and stuff anyway - will you believe me if i promise not to tell anyone? ‘

 

‘ _kehehe._ your persistence is . . . interesting, ‘ kiyo hums. ‘ i do not need pity from you, kaito. nor do you have any obligation to be doing this. ‘ he takes a sip from his tea. ‘ i am not . . . one of your stray projects. ‘

 

‘ fuck, man, ‘ kaito says, voice a little exasperated, ‘ maybe i’m just trying to be friends, you know? we’re going to be classmates for like the next three years, after all. ‘

 

kiyo takes a moment to digest this.

 

‘ what about you? ‘

 

kaito blinks at that. ‘ huh? what do you mean, what about me? ‘

 

‘ your own problems. you seem . . . much more the type to avoid thinking about them together, or bear the burden on your own. perhaps you should share, first. ‘

 

kaito sighs, head dropping. the two of them sit in silence for a few minutes, and kiyo’s expression is a resigned kind of victorious; like this was the outcome he was expecting, like he was trying to say _how can you expect me to tell you anything when you don’t want to think about it yourself?_

 

kaito didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

 

‘ . . . . hey, kiyo. do you ever, like - feel insecure about your own intelligence? ‘

 

‘ not particularly, no. do you? ‘

 

‘ fuck, sometimes. i know people are mostly only joking when they call me an idiot, but . . . sometimes i’m not sure they are. ‘mglad to help people and everything, but sometimes they talk to me like i’m stupid, you know? i worked really hard to be where i am today, so it’s a little . . . disenheartening. ‘

 

‘ of course, ‘ kiyo replies simply, inclining his head. kaito looks at himin surprise.

 

‘ you’re . . . agreeing with me? ‘

 

‘ why wouldn’t i? i’ve mentioned to you before that you’re clearly smarter than people give you credit for. you and miu are sort of similar that way. both of you are clearly nigh-genius level in terms of intelligence, but . . . you’re some of the first in our group to be insulted when it comes to that, because of the extroverted exterior you display. ‘

 

‘ kiyo, i get what you’re trying to say here, but _miu?_ ‘ kaito pleaded.

 

‘ _kehehe._ ‘ kiyo tipped one finger upwards. ‘ precisely what i mean, yes? simply because her . . . _demeanor_ is unpleasant shouldn’t undermine her intelligence. especially with how much we as a group rely on her and her inventions. ‘

 

‘ i guess you’re right, ‘ kaito admits. ‘ still, you gotta admit sometimes the things she says are uncomfortable. ‘

 

‘ oh, i’m not denying that. she’s abrasive, filthy-minded, crude, and often just annoying. however . . . her intelligence is undeniable. and i have reason to believe that all her bluster is just her own front she tries to maintain. like your . . . luminary of the stars ego. ‘ he taps his chin. ‘ our class is . . . particularly masterful in the art of masks. ‘

 

‘ you mean, literally? ‘ kaito jokes, pointing to kiyo’s own covering.

 

‘ only in my case. but - so many of us have a strong image we do our best to maintain. miu with her over-the-top sexual humor. you with your optimism and machismo. kokichi and his lies and antagonism. rantaro and the level of easy-going separation he tries to maintain. me and . . . well, you’d likely describe it just as being creepy, yes? ‘

 

‘ are you saying we aren’t all actually like that? ‘

 

‘ i’m saying . . . as human beings, we’re inherently much more multifaceted than that. but we feel an obligation to play a certain role. ‘ he fiddles with the pendant on his chest. ‘ it is much easier to fit yourself into a box if you have the illusion you have some choice in the matter. ‘

 

‘ kind of a depressing thought, ‘ kaito says, shaking his head with slightly pursed lips.

 

‘ it is, isn’t it? ‘ kiyo hums in agreement. ‘ and yet . . . to an extent, we don’t _want_ to become multifaceted. vulnerability, at its core, is a terrifying prospect. ‘

 

‘ sometimes i think you put too much thought into things, ‘ kaito says, shaking his head. ‘ but - what’s the point you’re trying to make, here? ‘

 

‘ that clearly i’m hiding some of my own issues, but given your own front, it’s very likely you are as well. but you discard them in favor of trying to fix others’. ‘

 

kaito considered that for a moment, chewing the inside of his cheek. ‘ i dunno, i think you might still just be overthinking things, ‘ he says, at last. but he owes kiyo a _little_ bit more than that, he guesses, so he sighs, head dropping. ‘ i dunno. it’s not very manly to be stuck dealing with such insignificant problems, you know? ‘

 

‘ your arbitrary boundaries for what defines masculinity never cease to amaze, ‘ kiyo says dryly. ‘ not to mention - the randomness inherent to the rate at which you apply them to others. ‘

 

‘ the hell does that mean? ‘

 

‘ nothing. simply that you do not judge all people by the same starting measurement. ‘

 

kaito frowned, thinking about that for a moment, before blinking, realizing something. he poked kiyo, jabbing one finger between his prominent ribs. ‘ you’re dodging the question. ‘

 

‘ an astute observation. ‘

 

‘ well - don’t! ‘

 

kiyo sighs, setting his flask down on top of the wall and resting his hands in his lap. ‘ i’m . . . not sure what you want of me, ‘ he confesses. ‘ my problems are not of the sort that i believe you can fix. ‘ he looks up at kaito. ‘ no, i’m not okay, ‘ he states bluntly. ‘ my sister was the reason i lived, and then she passed on. i find it harder and harder to define who i am as a person as time creeps away from her death. i am an undesirable person, and the only company i can reliably get is most often out of pity. does that satiate your curiousity? ‘

 

kaito blinks at him for a long moment. ‘ shit, man, ‘ he says, shaking his head and sighing. ‘ i mean, it answers my question, but that doesn’t mean i’m about to leave you here now i’ve got an answer, you know? ‘

 

‘ you don’t have to do this, ‘ kiyo says curtly. ‘ it seems you would be happier if you didn’t. ‘

 

‘ maybe, ‘ kaito says with a shrug. ‘ and maybe i’d be happier, too, if i wasn’t dealing with shuichi and maki’s problems. but the fact is that i _want_ to, because they’re my friends, and it’ll make them better people in the long run, even if it inconveniences me now. and _that_ makes me happy. is that good enough for you? ‘

 

‘ i . . . suppose, ‘ kiyo murmurs in assent. ‘ if nothing else, you are always interesting to speak to. ‘

 

‘ thanks, ‘ kaito replies, a little surprised. ‘ you too, you know? your stories are always pretty great. and you’re _really_ smart. ‘ he pushed off the wall, draining the last of his tea and handing the flask back to kiyo. ‘ now - let’s get off this fuckin’ roof already, yeah? i’ll even listen to you talk about whatever latest cursed thing you got in your lab. ‘

**Author's Note:**

> more of a vent fic than anything else. high school just ended, and i'm feeling a lotta ways about it. here's to the cessation of suicidal ideation, lads


End file.
